


Comment dire je t'aime en francais?

by PrittlePrince



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, PWP, Public Sex, slight size kink, vlive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24795334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrittlePrince/pseuds/PrittlePrince
Summary: Johnny can't wait to get his hands on Mark after their cute lil' Parisian vlive date.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 36
Kudos: 410





	Comment dire je t'aime en francais?

**Author's Note:**

> Just 1.5K of absolute filth I wrote after watching ~13 minutes of that cursed vlive.
> 
> My brain gets all doe-y and dumb whenever I see them together I'm sorry.
> 
> Thank you to my darling wife for reading and editing for me as well as just being dang cute. DANG CUTE.
> 
> I'm not biolingual, I'm just Canadian (▰˘◡˘▰)

Mark is sure that his thighs will show a faint line of bruises by tomorrow, but he knows that Johnny doesn’t care, so why should he? There are far more pressing matters, like the way he feels like he can’t _breath_ , thinking that anyone could walk through that _damned_ door.

There’s little prep to it. Mark’s still slick and open from this morning, and so he gets little more than Johnny tugging his jeans down just below the curve of his ass and two of Johnny’s fingers pressing into him, deep, searching. The sound of it makes Mark heat, obscene noises, and Johnny is so quiet besides the whisper of his breath against the shell of Mark’s ear.

“Spread,” Johnny demands, and Mark feels a thrill as Johnny kicks at his heels and fumbles with his belt. His knuckles brush against Mark’s bare ass and his belt buckle is cold against his skin.

Mark wants to make a smart remark, but he shuffles his thighs farther apart and has almost no warning before Johnny is feeding the head of his cock into Mark’s hole. Mark slumps forward on his elbows, and there’s no cushioning, but it's of little concern when all he can think of is _relaxing_ as Johnny pushes all the way home until their hips are pressed flush. Mark’s toes curl against the floor and his back is tense with the intrusion and Johnny smooths his palm down Mark’s back in quiet comfort.

“Okay?” He says, standing upright to glance down at where Mark’s hole is stretched around his cock.

Mark tries to answer, but Johnny doesn’t wait— pulling back before slamming forward once and Mark _keens_. Johnny acts fast, reaching down to flatten his fingers over Mark’s mouth and haul him back upright with an arm around his waist. Mark’s back bows as Johnny holds him back against his own chest and then Johnny is moving, holding Mark’s hip and fucking into him with an increasing tempo.

The flimsy table rocks and jolts against the linoleum floor and Mark whines loudly behind Johnny’s hand, rising to the balls of his feet in an effort to adjust around the size of him. They’ve tried to be quiet but overall there’s no mistaking the rhythmic squeak of the table shuddering across the floor and of Mark’s breathy moans tumbling out between Johnny’s fingers.

It’s hard and fast, Johnny chasing his release, the head of his cock nudging roughly over Mark’s tender prostate. His body is still open and accepting, but Johnny doesn’t treat Mark like he normally would. There’s no gently fucking into him, no soft words whispered against his throat, and Mark knows he won’t get even a kiss. This is a risk, and both of them know it. Zero responsibility and zero impulse control, and Johnny pulling Mark taught against him as Mark trembles through the slight overstimulation, through the crest of pleasure rising too-fast and dizzying.

“I wanna get you off, baby” Johnny huffs, and Mark can _hear_ how close he is, the exhibitionist in him making him thick inside Mark, too-hard already. The little pet name makes Mark weak. Johnny peels his fingers back just enough for Mark to respond but Mark only takes in a shuddering breath and braces himself better against the table. 

“Keep going, c’mon,” he whispers furiously when Johnny slips out and slides up behind Mark’s testicles. They both shiver when Johnny holds himself again and pushes back in. It’s _maddening_ , the drag of Johnny inside him, the feeling of him thickening with each soft whimper Mark can’t hold back.

Theres no condom, it’s going to be a mess, and Mark is going to have to scamper through the hallways to get back to his dorm and Mark knows that that odd ownership over his body makes Johnny fucking hot and bothered and restless, and that’s _really_ what’s led to this.

Johnny is close, Mark can tell, because Johnny’s hands move in that tell-tale way when he’s fighting his orgasm. Restlessly, they smooth over Mark’s sides and then his front, hips losing their furious rhythm as Mark rises into Johnny thumbing his nipples through his shirt.

“I’m—“ Johnny’s breath is hot against the back of Mark’s neck and he drops a kiss there, the first real tenderness in their rush to reach completion.

Mark unravels.

Inexplicably, aching and trapped in the front of his jeans, Mark comes with a few helpless gasps. He feels the slick gather between his cock and cotton underwear and Johnny groans when Mark begins to tighten and _shake_ apart around his cock.

Johnny forgets to cover Mark’s breathy moans, but it doesn’t matter because he can’t hold back either, his own orgasm rolling through him as his hips stutter to a stop. His palm lands loud against Mark’s flank and Mark jumps under the harsh touch, whining. His thighs tremble and Johnny catches his ass in both hands, holding him open as he rocks feebly forward.

He presses Mark against the table and it skitters across the floor a little bit further under their combined weight. He draws in a shaky breath and Mark _feels_ Johnny come, feels the heat fill him up, feels it bead and begin to drip along the crease of his thigh. Mark moans. He’s addicted to the feeling. 

He glances up at the closed door, and it feels almost like a pane of glass. He suddenly understands Johnny’s slight exhibitionism. _Come see_ , he wants to say, as Johnny pulls out and thumbs at the come slipping from his hole. _See how he’s marked me, put his seed inside of me._ Mark’s lust-addled mind gives him vivid daydreams of Johnny fucking him open in front of anyone— the managers, the other hyungs. Suddenly, that excites him.

“Ohhh,” Johnny hums, his muscles growing loose and relaxed. He touches Mark wherever he can reach, smoothing over his shirt, and his ass, he drops a few small kisses to the bared skin of Mark’s shoulder where his shirt has been stretched and pulled. “You came,” he breathes, awe in his voice.

“Yeah…” Mark whimpers when Johnny slides two thick fingers into his hole. Mark knows Johnny likes to look, and so he falls forward again to his elbows. Johnny is a gentleman, grabbing a fistful of napkins and doing his best to catch the worst of the mess. Mark is in a daze, swinging his hips idly under the attention and Johnny almost _growls_ at the view. _Fuck_. The ownership, Mark feels wound by it.

“I could fuck you again,” Johnny whispers, and gives Mark’s ass a good squeeze. “But we’re pushing our luck every second.”

Mark knows. He nods, still bewildered by how _good_ it had been, how much he’d wanted someone to see. How much he still might.

“I see why you like it, maybe…” Mark finds his balance and lifts his jeans back up. It’s still an uncomfortable mess, and he’s going to have to wash his underwear in the shower before he even feels comfortable dropping them in the laundry, but his nerves are alight and he is content.

He hears the quiet sound of Johnny re-buckling his jeans.

“You’re something else…” Johnny is pressing against him again, drawing Mark close into the cage of his arms, and he presses a very soft, dry kiss to the centre of Mark’s mouth. Mark sighs, light. He doesn’t fail to notice that Johnny is handsy, clingy in a way Mark had somehow expected, yet forgotten he’d wanted. 

“Perfect for me, beautiful, so strong,” Johnny sends Mark into a fit of laughter with each kiss-punctuated compliment, until Mark is pulling back, slapping Johnny softly on the shoulder and falling back into his usual persona. The Mark that doesn’t let Johnny fuck him over a shaky table seconds after a vlive ends.

“Hey,” Johnny says, gripping Mark’s wrist and drawing him back before Mark can slip away. Mark rolls his eyes but lets himself be held, and grins when Johnny drops his chin and gives Mark a tender little kiss against the apple of his cheek.

“Love you,” it’s said softly, delicately. It's a new thing between them, and Johnny treats it that way, yet… he doesn’t shy away from it. Mark’s face flushes at the way Johnny smoothes his hands down his sides and presses a few more kisses to the curve of his shoulder. He really likes the way Johnny touches him. How he can sweetly adore him one second, and then fuck him into oblivion the next. It makes goosebumps rise up along the back of his neck with a want that never quite seems to ebb away.

“Come visit tonight,” Mark whispers, and it’s a new thing he’s trying on, too.

He turns to give Johnny a quick little kiss and tries not to lean into it when Johnny hums his assent against his lips. He extricates himself and makes to leave, but when he levels Johnny with one final glance over his shoulder, he almost stops. Johnny is grinning, red in the face, clothing wrinkles and Mark feels _happy_.

“Bye, nerd,” Mark mumbles, but he’s blushing, too, when he finally tears himself away.

**Author's Note:**

> PrittleCeebs on twt!


End file.
